


Salty

by Delphi



Category: Tintin - All Media Types
Genre: Dirty Talk, Fisting, M/M, Sexual Fantasy, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-09
Updated: 2012-04-09
Packaged: 2017-11-03 09:11:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/379715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delphi/pseuds/Delphi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tintin has a mouth on him to make a (certain) sailor blush.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Salty

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the "Dirty Talk" square of the Hello, Sailor card for the April 2012 Kink Bingo Mini-Challenge.

A man didn't spend half his life at sea without gathering a little salt in his language. That was simply the way of things, but any sailor worth said salt figured out pretty quickly that there were sea manners and then there were land manners. Having had the dubious benefit of a maiden auntie with a sharp backhand and no tolerance for so much as a "drat," Haddock had become adept at steering his curses out of the back alleys and down cleaner avenues—a habit he’d picked up anew after falling in with Tintin.

He couldn’t help it. The boy was all apple-cheeked smiles and big blue eyes, expecting the best of people, and Haddock couldn’t bear to think of himself as a corrupting influence. Which was, admittedly, why he had felt a little silly when Tintin ambushed him naked in a Paris hotel room approximately three months into their friendship. And even sillier when he’d found out that Tintin...talked. 

Case in point. Here he was, naked, with an equally naked Tintin straddling his thighs, and while Haddock himself was doing the done thing of heavy breathing and the occasional moan, Tintin couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

" _Captain_..." Tintin murmured, managing to make the word sound like something that wouldn’t be allowed in the dictionary. 

Haddock really wished he wouldn’t do that. It was hard enough for a man to keep his composure with a pretty lapful and two slicked-up fingers pushing into said lapful’s tight backside without the additional stimulation.

" _Oh_." Tintin wound his arms around Haddock’s neck, wiggling closer. "Your fingers feel so good. Give me another?"

How was he supposed to say no to a request like that? He sucked in a hard breath and fumbled for the jar as Tintin frotted against him.

"That’s it," Tintin moaned, his voice catching in the middle as he was slowly stretched. "Mm, deeper..."

Haddock obliged, his fingers sinking in to the knuckle. 

Tintin gasped softly in his ear. "Oh, just like that..." A nip at his throat as Haddock twisted his fingers. "Yesss...oh, you’ll take me good and hard, won’t you, Captain? I want to you to leave me sore and slick and dripping with your spunk..."

Haddock gulped, his face flushing violently and his cock surging. "I think..." he said weakly, "...I think that could be arranged."

"Good!" Tintin chirped, leaning back with a blissful smile and bracing himself on one hand, the other trailing down his chest. His hips rolled, grinding down hard as he rode Haddock’s fingers. "Oh, _very_ good."

The sight alone would have brought a lesser man off on the spot. As it was, Haddock—a stealthy rub or two aside—was hanging on admirably up until Tintin uttered two words that never boded well.

"I wonder..."

Haddock gazed in helpless lust as Tintin licked his lips.

"...do you think four fingers would fit?"

He made the mistake of picturing it. His mouth dropped open stupidly and his vision briefly glazed over. 

Tintin's smile grew positively sunny. "Do you like that idea?"

A mute nod was as much as he could manage, and he had to grab himself sternly, willing Tintin not to utter another syllable and please let them get on with it.

But the lad _purred_.

"I saw a picture once..." Tintin reached down and stroked Haddock’s wrist. "Only it was the fellow’s whole hand. It was very impressive."

Haddock opened his mouth, but all that came out was a very faint: "Blistering barnacles."

Tintin’s thumb brushed slowly back and forth, sending a fiery bolt of pleasure through him. "We should try it next time. I bet I’d feel it for a week afterwards, every time I moved, every time I sat down. You could have me afterwards, would you like that? Stretched and slick and burning hot—"

He grabbed for the lad with no small urgency as his cock gave a precarious pulse. Barely avoiding embarrassment, he pulled Tintin close, kissing him hard on the mouth and holding him fast. Tintin let out a muffled cry of surprise against his lips, but that soon softened to a low, pleased moan as he melted into the kiss, granting Haddock a much-needed moment in which to gather his reserve.

How in the world did sailors get so bad a reputation, he wondered dizzily, when it was obviously writers you had to watch out for?


End file.
